"Mary, its time," Mike said, standing in the room of his cousin as she sat there on the windowsill, hugging her knees and leaning on the cold glass of the window as she looked at the gathering people outside the estate, their black umbrellas starting to crowd around two holes that were dug in the huge expanse of grass. It was a big affair, this funeral - the heiress of the mysterious and legendary Rogers Estate was finally dead. Well, she was not the only heiress, but being the eldest in the family and the only sister living in the estate, it made her matter. But it matters not, now. In a few minutes, she and her husband will be six feet under the ground with their merry souls hundreds of feet above it. It was as if a small army of umbrellas started to gather around the two white caskets at the top of the small hill in the small cemetery; The Grey Quarter, she'd like to call it, for the dull and grey aura it produced. Only the small hill seemed merry and it was there Elizabeth Rogers Smith wished to be hurried beside her husband and, in the future, her only daughter. "Mary."

"I'm not going down there." She said her glare at the people was as cold as the glass that her head was leaning on. They were all just politicians in the town and social climbers. Only a few of them were really relatives and most of them didn't even know that Elizabeth had a child until the wake. Why did they even bother to come? They didn't care about them when they were living; they didn't care about who they were, how they were great people, or how they became troubled… They just care about what they would get out of their death and their social profile, considering that the Rogers family were the most respected family in town. Mary's distant relatives hoping that Elizabeth left at least a single penny for them. 'Well none of you is getting a single penny, you ignorant fuckers,' Mary thought. 'They made sure to spend every single penny of it so their hard work wouldn't fall into shitty bastards like you.'

"Mary, they're your parents… You have to be there." Mike said, sitting beside his cousin, placing a comforting hand on top of hers.

"I can see them from here. I know exactly how a funeral works, Mike. I'm not as stupid as she says. Besides, I want to be there without those sympathetic sons of bitches telling me how sorry they are that they're gone cuz I had enough for the past week…" She said, glaring back at the people gathered around outside their estate, as if she'll be able to burn holes through their thick skulls.

"Mary, please, what would Aunt Liza say, or Uncle Jon? They'd-"

"Don't you dare assume to know what they'd do! You didn't know them like I did!" She exclaimed, standing up.

"But they were family! They were like a father and mother to me, too!" Mike exclaimed, standing up. Mary sighed, her stony facade breaking as she sat down at her windowsill, her elbows resting on her knees and hands raking through her hair as she broke down. Mike, whose features softened, knelt in front of his cousin as he took her hands in his, tucking her black locks behind her ear.

"Hey, hey, look at me." He said, lifting her chin to look into her brown eyes; eyes that were so afraid of so many things - her parents' death, holding her shit together... living the rest of her life in this God forsaken place of a prison...

How on Earth is she going to make it?

"Mike, I can't do this..." She cried softly, looking down, only for her chin to be lifted up again to look into those brown eyes.

"We'll go through this together, okay? Me and Josh will be here with you -for you. You're gonna be okay." But this seemed to only make her shake with tears as she pried her hands away from his and covered her face. Mike sat beside her and took her in his arms, wondering why God was cruel enough to lay this fate on his cousin.


It was not long before Mary pulled it together and fixed herself, going to The Grey Quarter with Mike once again after many years, but this time for a funeral. With their arms linked together, the cousins made their way out of the enormous house and spotted Josh standing at the start of the pathway through the forest.

"Gran said to hurry up. She said it can't start without you." Josh said, not really wanting his cousin to hurry up -he'd let her take all the time in the world if she'd had to. He walked beside her, letting her take his hand as they silently made their way to The Grey Quarter.

Once they arrived at the small hill, the first thing they saw was a stout woman making her way towards them; her black veiled hat too big for her head and her pink lipstick too dark and tacky with her outfit. Her once black pixie hair now streaked with grey from a long period of forgotten dying treatments and cut even shorter, making her figure even more rotund.

"Mary, what took you so long?! The guests are waiting!" She hissed as she held on to Mary's wrist in a vice grip, Josh and Mike walking towards their grandmother.

"Gran, she's mourning, let her be." Josh said, irritated by his grandmother's usual outbursts. Mary, however, just stayed quiet; a silent rage fuming up in her as she let her grandmother practically drag her up the hill. The brothers just looked at each other with disapproving looks before following their grandmother up the hill. The rain stopped a few minutes ago, therefore leaving the ground muddy and slippery for the heels of the old ladies and Mary silently thanked that she followed her instinct to wear flats as she watched her grandmother almost trip a few times, hiding her smirks on her shoulder. Soon enough, she took her place beside her grandfather as the ceremony took place -the local priest saying glorious things about heaven and lies on how Elizabeth and Jonathan Smith is in a better place, when the best place they could ever be was beside their daughter, for they were each other's solid brick wall against the storm in their messed up family. And now that they were gone, Mary was now left alone; defenseless.

After the priest's awfully long speech, her grandmother stood in front for her eulogy, tearing up in one eye as she read through her yellow paper about how Elizabeth was the brightest daughter she ever had and how she was the perfect daughter... almost. She spoke about how Elizabeth could've done more and better with her life. Mary knew that her words had a double meaning, for she was there when it was proven how her grandmother was the bitch she had suspected.

'You, your husband and your daughter are sick… Your daughter was born sick.'

'Don't bring her into this.'

'The poor girl will grow up just like her father; careless, stupid and no destination in life. How do you expect her to learn when all you do is travel around the world for no apparent reason? She will never be able to finish college like her father, and she'll end up exactly like him!'

'Watch your tongue, 's my family you're speaking of.'

'And you're slowly turning into one of them. I didn't raise my daughter to be like this… I don't have a daughter, or a granddaughter. Travel all around the world as much as you want; but don't cone running to me when you realize that I was right.'

She over heard them talking about it a few years ago, when she was in the 9th grade. This fueled her to hate her grandmother even more. She would want nothing more for her to pass away from her old age, but it seems that she won't be going anywhere for the next couple of years. All of the dark thoughts about her grandmother steered clear from her mind as the priest's voice took over her grandmother's. Obviously, she didn't say anything about Mary's father, even though she said she'll make a eulogy for the both of them. After more burial rights, the casket containing Mary's most beloved parents were lowered down, her grandmother howling on her grandfather's shoulder as Mary wept silent tears of sorrow and rage. How dare she weep for them as if she loved them? She's only weeping for the image of what she thinks is her daughter, but in fact, she never knew her daughter. She never liked Jon and always disapproved of him for not finishing college. Mary looked at the black granite stones with her parents' names.

In loving memory of

Elizabeth R. Smith

1974-2015

And her husband

Jonathan C. Smith

1970-2015

She wanted to put something more memorable in their tombstones as her parents wished, like 'The greatest love of all' for her mother or 'Who rocked the world like no other' for her father. But sadly, her grandmother was in charge of the whole affair and did not even listen to one of her suggestions.

'They were 40 and 45… They still could've done so much.' Mary thought about the places they could've seen together, the music they could've listened, the stories they had to tell; they couldn't go… Not yet. Not with so much to do with her. She didn't cry, or shed any more tears, she just stared at the two tombstones, a hole lying where her heart should've been; she had cried enough. She remembered seeing their cold lifeless bodies in the morgue, her mom's head full of scars from the shattered glass and her dad's neck bent from the impact. They had a car accident on their way back to the estate after their date for their wedding anniversary. Mary encouraged them to go out that day; spend time for theirselves. It seemed a good idea before, but now she wished that she'd begged them to stay.

Something wet and leathery nudged her hand, snapping out of her thoughts. She looked down to see a golden brown mass of fur circling around her, almost like a rag moving around by itself.

"Max, buddy, what are you doing out here?" She asked him, squatting down to pat the Cocker Spaniel's head when she felt that tingle at the back of her neck -the one she used to feel when she knew that Chris was watching her from the back of History classes. She looked to her left at the dispersing crowd to see a young man in a suit, holding an umbrella as a cane on one hand and another in his pocket. His shocking blue eyes unreadable as he stared at her, his blonde hair being swept by the wind. His clenched jaw opened as if he was going to speak until Mary turned her attention back to Max, who began licking her palm. Looking up to the greying sky, she patted Max's head and stood up.

"Looks like its gonna rain, Max. Better catch up with the others." She looked to her left again, hoping to see that strange man with those shocking blue eyes again.

He was gone.


Hey, this is Chris. Leave a message.

"Hey, Chris! Its Mary... Uh, you missed the ceremony. Are you coming to the dinner, at least? Okay, um... Give me a call if you can't make it, or whatever."

"Must be an important person, if you had to exclude yourself from family for him." Mary's head snapped up to see those pair of shocking blue eyes again, but this time he was actually speaking to her. She stood there, mesmerized for a second before remembering that she excused herself from her family to call her boyfriend, who apparently was not answering her calls or messages. She was getting worried that it might be another car accident. But after her parents' recent accident, who can blame her?

"Oh, um... Its my boyfriend, he was supposed to come," She said, pushing herself off the wall and looking down, tucking her hair behind her ear as she furrowed her eybrpws for a while. She laughed at herself, realizing that she's affecting a stranger with her burdens. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be telling you this," She said, laughing dryly at herself and looking at the man and for the first time, she had a good look at the man. He wasn't that tall, for a man; in fact he was just a tad bit taller than her. But damn, whatever he lacked in his height was made up with his good looks."I'm Mary, by the way." She said, holding her hand out to the mysterious good looking man.

"Henry's granddaughter," He said, shaking her hand. "I'm Fi -Philip..."

"I take it you know my grandfather?" Mary asked, pushing herself off the wall as they started walking towards the parlor.

"Yes, my -er... grandfather knew him. I'm here on his behalf. He's sick, you see," He told her and she nodded. "My condolences, by the way."

"Oh, please. I've heard enough of that for the past week." She scoffed, stopping when Philip's phone rang. He looked at it for a while before placing it back to his pocket and looking up to Mary, apology written over his face.

"Girlfriend?" She asked.

"No, its my brother," He said, running his hand over his short hair, lightly tugging on the small, thin braid at the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I have to go. It was nice to meet you, Mary." He said, smiling and nodded towards her before striding out of the mansion, finally leaving Mary alone in the nightmare she calls a home.


Hey guys! So I'm rewriting the whole story cuz the previous version sucked a great deal, so I hope you like this new one!